Dance Until Dawn
by Shatteredsand
Summary: "I like me. I don't do we." "I matched you. I matched you good."
1. Change

**AN: Well, Tea's episode had some nice Tony/Tea underlays there right up until the actual sex, and then for a second there at the end. And they've got a little more than nothing on site, just two or threee fics, so I went and wrote this. Kindly leave a review.**

**Summary: "I like me. I don't do we." "I matched you. I matched you good."**

**Warnings: Have you seen the show? Seriously? This chapter has "foul" language and underaged sex. And maybe the tiniest bit of OOC; it's a bit soon to tell...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins". **

**Chapter One  
****Change**

One second, they're dancing, lose and easy. _Free_. The way they won't let themselves be anywhere else. He's smiling a real smile without a trace of his signature smirk. She's laughing real, honest laughter like she hasn't in the longest time. He's twisting around her, too close-too close-too close, but he's not touching her because they're best friends and they don't do that. She's swaying in his space, pushing-pushing-pushing without laying a hand on him. Because they're _just _friends. He has Michelle. She has the girl of the week. Neither of them has the other. Not like that.

One second, they're dancing, lose and easy and free. The next, she's managed to get him up against a wall, and they're kissing. It's a soft, hesitant thing. Barely a kiss at all. But it _is_. And, oh god, what are they _doing_? She's looking at him with a sort of panic that he knows the girl she tries to be would never show. He's staring back with a sort of confusion that seems far too innocent for the man she knows him to be.

Then she's backing away, but she doesn't go far. Waits for him, for this, whatever _this _is. And he's following, uncharacteristically somber. His hands on her skin and his tongue in her mouth and everything is burning as he pulls up her dress. Her hands slide under his shirt, trace over smooth, hard muscle, so different from what she's used to. He slips a hand into her underwear, pulls it down and out of the way. Out of _his _way. Because, dear gods above, he's about to have sex with _Tea_.

He runs a hand over her, makes sure she's ready. He's almost surprised that she is, even as he rolls a condom on. He pauses, asks that damned question he hasn't bothered with in longer than he cares to remember.

"Are you sure?"

He doesn't want to fuck this up.

"Don't you dare stop _now_."

He doesn't stop. He thrusts in, and yeah, it hurts like a _bitch_. It never occurred to her that it would. But he's gentle. As gentle as he's capable of, which is far softer than she had thought. He'd always been so wild, so rough, so untamed. She hadn't thought him gentle. For anything or anyone.

She feels amazing, soft and wet and tight. He struggles to control himself. He wants to pound into her with the kind of desperate wanting he hasn't felt since...that he's _never _felt. But he makes himself be slow and sweet instead of hard and fast. She's digging her nails into his back. He's not sure whether it's from pleasure or pain. He hopes it's the former, and not just for his ego's sake. He doesn't want to hurt her. He _cares_.

At some point it stopped being vaguely painful and started being really good. Different. So very different from the others before. And either she's not quite as gay as she thought she was, or he's just _that _good. Her nails are digging into his back and she's not sure she cares which one it is. Because she doesn't want him to stop.

He keeps kissing her. He doesn't do that. Kisses are intimate, and sex is just sex. But he's doing it now, with Tea. He doesn't want to think about what that means. He doesn't want to think at all.

She keeps kissing him. He doesn't taste like a meaningless fuck, like lust and coke and ecstasy. He tastes like cigarette smoke and vodka and the slightest remnants of mint, and it burns in the best way. She doesn't know what it means but it doesn't matter because they're Tony and Tea and they're just _them_.

She cries out, and Tony's done this enough to know the sound of a woman hitting orgasm when he hears it. He rides her through it before letting go and following her off the edge.

He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Like a moan and sob are both trying to crawl from his lips at the same time. And then, he's still. He pulls out, removes the condom, neatly ties it off in a clinical and well practiced move, and throws it into the trash can hiding in the corner.

She pulls up her panties, not ashamed or embarrassed, just a little unsure as to what exactly they're supposed to do now. Because they're them, and they don't do this. Silence reigns for about two minutes, uncomfortable and uncertain and unwanted, until Tony can't take it anymore.

"So, muff-muncher, how's it feel to crunch cock?" His smirk makes its reappearance, but it's not as hard around the edges as it usually is and there's mirth in his eyes. He just wants to make her laugh. So they can stop this quiet awkwardness between them and just be Tony and Tea again.

"Reminded me why I'm into girls." She rolls her eyes but puts a hand on his wrist so he knows she doesn't really mean it, lest she bruise his ego.

"Glad I could help."

And they're playing with fire now, inching closer but still hoping to escape the burn. Because this doesn't sound like them, callous and pointed. It sounds light and flirty and this is not what they do.

"Good. Now walk me home, you tit."

"Did you just call me a tit?" He laughs. "Really? A _tit_?"

He stands and helps pull her to her feet. And, god, she's going to be feeling this tomorrow, she can already tell.

"Yep. Sure did. You're a clever one." She's mocking to hide the wince. But he's Tony, and there's nothing he doesn't notice, so he sees. And she's Tea, so she knows he's noticed. They've never been able to hide anything from each other, but he knows better than to open his fucking mouth and dig his own damn grave.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me." He just smiles and keeps up the rapport. They're nothing if not capable actors. Lying about everything and nothing, until the truth is a foreign concept that neither really recognizes anymore. But his hand, in a move almost gentlemanly, is one the small of her back, and this doesn't _feel _like a lie.

Maybe it should.

**AN: What do you think? Leave it as a one-shot or continue into a multi-chap? Drop a review and let me know.**


	2. And Things Aren't Simple Anymore

**AN: This chap's shorter than I would have liked, but what can you do? Drop a review if you like it. Or if you hate it. Flamers make me laugh my ass off.**

**Warnings: Just language this time 'round.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins"**

**Chapter Two  
****And Things Aren't Simple Anymore**

"I've been waiting all day to talk to you." The dealer growls, all fierce intimidation that bounces off both of their well-honed masks. They'll never let anything real show through, they're much too skilled for that.

"Fuck off." Tony says with a smile. It's dark though, and there's something hard in his eyes.

"Now, now, play nice, kiddies."

"No. I don't think I will." Tony's stepping in front of Tea, his stance protective and possessive.

"All I want to know is where to find that stupid blonde kid. Because your friend owes me, and if you don't start talking, you're going to owe me too. You and the little dyke."

"So what, you're going to 'red' us to death?" Tea quips.

The man advances, and Tony's tensing, preparing to use all those martial arts he's studied to keep fit.

"Hey, Tea." Her father interrupts, looking nothing less than ominous in his wife beater. Head shaved, tattoos black against his skin, hatred in his eyes. "It's late. You should run up to bed."

"Okay, Dad." She's walking a little faster than normal, the only sign that she's bothered by this situation. Tony remains, eyeing Madison warily.

"Been a bit of a mix-up, obviously." He calls out, edging away from this made man and this made boy and this girl who apparently belongs to both of them.

"Obviously." Mr. Marvelli glowers until the yellow truck disappears from sight, then nods curtly at Tony, and goes inside.

Tony sighs, wonders what the hell, _exactly_, he's doing and turns towards home. This isn't who he is. This is not what he does. He's Tony Synder. He doesn't give a damn about anyone or anything, not really. He'd save his own ass before anyone else's.

Yet, he stood there, prepared to get his ass thoroughly handed to him by a crazed drug dealer. And he doesn't know _why_. He really thinks he should. But he doesn't want to know what it means. Doesn't want things to change, to be different.

He's Tony Synder, and he's an ass. A cold, manipulative ass. She's Tea Marvelli, and she's a bitch. A cold, manipulative bitch. And they're best friends. Nothing more, nothing less. It's just that fucking simple.

He slides in the front and his dad smiles at him, "Have a good time, then?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Tony shrugs, disinterested in his father's approval. The man is useless and stupid, and Tony hopes he never becomes anything like him.

"Good."

* * *

"I don't want to talk about it, Dad."

"Tomorrow."

"Okay..."

This quietness is only half what the hell just happened with the crazy drug dealer outside. The other half is what the hell just happened with _Tony_. Tony, narcissistic, arrogant, manipulative, best friend Tony. Tony that she doesn't screw around with because they're best friends. Oh, and yeah, she's _gay_.

She so very, very gay. Except for the whole just slept with a guy thing. And Audrey Hepburn is staring at her with sultary eyes, judging her.

"Oh, shut up, you." She says and covers her face with a pillow. But it doesn't help because she still feels...well, she's not quite sure how she feels, but she knows she shouldn't be feeling anything at all. Because he's Tony, and she's Tea, and they don't do this. They just _don't_.

It's supposed to be fucking simple.


	3. Precious Lie

**AN: Had to tie up a lot of canon loose ends, so I really don't like this chapter, but it had to be done. Pretty much jumping into the deep end of the AU pool after this.**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins"**

**Chapter Three  
****Precious Lie**

They don't let on that anything is different, that anything has changed. They play it cool and casual. Don't they always? And no one notices anything, no one says anything. Everyone is clueless. Just the way they're supposed to be.

Except Tony keeps staring at her from across the room. And Tea keeps staring back. And if anyone had been paying even the slightest attention they would have seen the way the dynamic has shifted. The way everything has changed without changing anything at all.

"So how was your blind date?" Michelle asks with horrible, honest curiosity as she slides across from Tea. This is a friend, hers _and _Tony's, and they've betrayed her terribly.

"It was fine." So nonchalant, as if her date hadn't been Michelle's boyfriend. As if she hadn't slept with him.

"He try and get into your pants?"

"Yep." She doesn't mention that she let him. Hell, that she _started _it. Kissed him, pulled him down, told him not to stop...

"And you explained the whole liking girls thing?"

Tea kinda wishes this line of discussion would be _over _already so she just nods. Tries to look bored. She doesn't want to talk about her date, about Tony.

"But still, it's nice to get jumped like that sometimes, you know?" Her gaze shifts to Tony who's staring at Tea until he notices his girlfriend's attention. He redirects his eyes to the work in front of him. Michelle looks back at Tea with sad eyes. "It's been a while since Tony wanted me like that. I have to work at it. It feels like...work."

Tea knows she should say something comforting. She should tell her that she has nothing to worry about. Maybe even say that Tony loves her, even though he obviously doesn't. But then Betty's there, lips against hers, and she doesn't have to say anything at all. The kiss is neither gentle nor demanding, some sort of strange mix between the two. _I'm ready to stop hiding_, it says without words, _are you? _And Tea doesn't have the answer. She used to have them all.

"See you 'round, yeah?" And she's grabbing her things while her boyfriend just stares.

Michelle yells something at the morons still staring with disbelief. But Tea doesn't really hear because Tony's looking at her again, knowing yet confused and almost even _hurt_, and it's not fair because everything used to be simple and now it's not. It's supposed to be.

The bell rings, and Tea leaves, doesn't wait for her friends. Doesn't wait for Tony, though she can feel his eyes burning into her back. Her father's there, waiting beside a car she's never seen before with the darkness she hates painted on his face. He knocks on the window and it rolls down to reveal Madison and two men she knows work for the Mob, the way she knows her father does.

"Is this the guy?" He asks, voice hard. "The one that called you that name."

"Dad..."

"Is it?"

"_Dad_."

"I'll take care of it."

"No. Dad, _no_."

"You're a good person, sweetheart." He kisses her forehead and she knows that he doesn't think _he _is.

She walks away, hopes he does the right thing, but sort of doubts he will. And she's sitting on her bed, wishing things would just go back to the way they used to be. Where her friends were just her friends, and a one night stand only lasted one night, and father didn't do the things she knows he's doing.

But she doesn't think they'll ever be the same.

* * *

He should just let it go. He knows he should. It didn't fucking mean anything. He knows it didn't. That it _can't_. But the knowledge doesn't stop him from picking up his phone and dialing her number.

"Hi." She answers, quiet and hesitent in that way that says _I shouldn't have even answered the phone_. He hates that tone. And he especially hates it coming from her.

"Hi." It shouldn't be this hard to talk to her. She's Tea. His _best _friend.

"It isn't going to fly." _Why not, Tea. Come on, we could be good_. Those are the words he wants, but they're not the ones that come out.

"I matched you. I matched you good." It's not untrue, and he just wants her to talk to him. To realize that she can't just run away from him because he's her best friend and he'll hunt her down to the ends of the goddamned earth. That's what he _does_. He pushes and pushes until things happen the way he wants them to. And he wants this.

"I've got to go."

"Don't." He tries to tell her, but by the time the word have worked their way out of his mouth, Tea has already hung up on him. "Damn it."

He runs his hands over his face, wondering when everything got so completely fucked. And ignores the part of him that reminds him it was just about the time he fucked _her_. He doesn't want to think about that. That, maybe, probably, it's all his fault. Well, not _all _his fault. It's not like he was alone last night. It's not like she didn't want him to. He even fucking _asked_. She could have said no.

But he's glad she didn't.

_No, I'm not_, he corrects himself. Because if she had just said no, had just reminded him that she's a goddamned _lesbian_, none of this would be happening. They'd have had a laugh, had a few more drinks, and gone home with easy money. Could have kept it up, gotten paid every few weeks to hang out and drink. If they hadn't been so stupid. God, how had two people who pride themselves on their intellect done something so utterly and recklessly _moronic_.

Tony flops back on his bed, exhausted with himself and with Tea. He doesn't know the answers. He _always _knows the answers. He has a solution for _everything_. Except what to do when you hook-up with your gay best friend behind your girlfriend's back while working for the mob. The one answer he doesn't have, so of course, it's the one he needs.

He stifles a groan as the incredibly vivid memory of her hands on his skin overtakes him for a second. He grits his teeth and gets out of bed. He's not going to do this. He's not going to sit at home and _pine_, for god's sake. He's Tony fucking Synder, he doesn't pine after anyone, dammit.

"Stan?" He all but barks into his phone. "We're going out. Just the boys." He doesn't want to deal with Michelle right now, anyways.

"We are?" Stan's clueless voice questions.

"Yes, you pussy. We are." Tony is demanding and assertive because Stan will do whatever he tell him to. That's how this works. "The Cafe, twenty minutes."

"All right."

The next number.

"Abbud, stop doing whatever you're doing. And get to the Cafe, twenty minutes. Boy's night out. We''ll find some nice one night stands."

"I am so there."

"Of course you are."

And the next.

"Chris, put on your party pants, we're going to town."

"Party!"

"Damn straight."

And it's all a hollow imitation of the way things used to be. The way they should be. But Tony tells himself he doesn't care.

He almost even believes it.

_Almost_.


	4. Distracted and Attracted

**AN: Good god, this is all so damn angsty. I can't seem to write anything else. I blame the look in Tea's eyes the day after the date while she was watching Tony, right before Michelle sat down with her. Like a kicked puppy...I just want to hug her or something...**

**AN2: Normally, I don't post this fast. Like ever. But I'm pretty sure Tea and Tony hook up again next week so I'm feeling the need to update. Possibly _several _more times this week in celebration. Review if this sounds like a good idea.**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Four  
****Distracted and Attracted**

"Hello?" Tony's voice is rough with sleep and he hasn't pried his eyes open yet. He just fell into bed a few minutes ago, trying to squeeze in two or three hours of sleep before school starts.

"I'm not sorry." Tea's voice says.

Well, he's wide the fuck awake now. "Tay?" But the connection has already cut out. She's hung-up on him. Again. After dropping a goddamned bombshell on him at, he glances at the clock, four in the morning. What the hell was she doing up at four in the morning? What the hell is _he _doing up at four in the morning. He rolls over, tries to fall back asleep, but her words are echoing in his head, taunting him.

_I'm not sorry_. What the hell is that even supposed to mean? What, exactly, is he supposed to do with this brilliant little tidbit of information? What does she want from him? Does she want anything at all? Or is she telling him to stop acting like it was a big deal instead of a moment of weakness or stupidity or whatever? Or maybe, she's telling him that it wasn't just a random, slightly drunken fuck. Maybe he should call her back. Maybe he shouldn't.

He groans. Indecision doesn't suit him, and he knows it. He makes it his habit to always have a course of action for every eventually. But he never saw any of this coming and it's just not _fair_.

* * *

Tony comes to class with bleary eyes. "Have fun last night?" Tea asks with a smirk because he's not the only one who looks like shit, Abbud and Stan both look ready to drop at a moment's notice. Chris has his_ I'm still wasted from last night _look on.

"Yep." Tony sneers. "Awesome."

"Why wasn't I invited?" Michelle pouts, and Tea's stomach twists because she knows exactly why Michelle didn't get a call from Tony.

"Boys night, Nips." Tony shrugs with a winning smile. "I didn't even invite Tea, and she's practically one. Lady bits not withstanding." He adds, tossing her a wink.

"Fuck off, Tony." She shoots back, and it's just as playful as the last time they argued like this because nothing as changed. She's going to make sure of it.

"Only if you'll come with."

"Not quite my type, man bits and all."

"Shame." He shakes his head with feigned disappointment. She refuses to allow herself to think that maybe it isn't fake at all.

"You should have invited us, Tony." Michelle says, "Could of made a night of it."

"Next time, Nips."

"Don't call me Nips."

"Whatever you say, Nips."

Michelle looks like she's about to kill him, so he pacifies her with a kiss. The kind that ends with his tongue halfway down her throat. And everyone is staring, except Tea because she does _not _care. Tony can kiss whoever the hell he wants, and so can she. They're not a thing; they're not having a thing. It was one stupid night and it's _over_.

Then the teacher is walking in and clearing his throat until the pair part, breathless. They all settle into their assigned seats. Tea tries to focus on scoping out the hot girls, there are a few she _knows _plays for her team, but the darting glances Tony keeps sending her way are more than a bit distracting. She wishes he would cut it out. It's over and done with. So what, they fucked, doesn't mean anything. They both know that. He fucks just about everyone, and she's not too picky herself. It was one, meaningless screw. Just like any other.

Only they're best friends and still have to see each other everyday. And he's still looking at her like he's waiting for something she's not sure she can give him. Christ, she'd told him she wasn't sorry to _avoid _this. To skip over the whole _so we had sex, now what_ talk. There doesn't need to be a talk. So they had sex, now they keep living their lives. Simple and clean and easy.

Except he won't stop giving her these brief little looks, and she keeps looking back. It's just a instinctual response to look back. It doesn't mean anything.

It. Does. _Not_.

* * *

So, he's pretty much an ass. He knows it. But damn if he's just going to leave things all ambiguous and unsettled. Which is how he ends up smiling his best _I'm a fucking angel _smile at Tea's math teacher and telling him that she's needed in the office.

She doesn't believe his bullshit for even a second. It's written all over her face.

"What are you doing, Tony?"

"Ditching. I'm bored."

"And you need me for...?"

"Entertainment?" He smirks.

She starts back towards her class because for all her sexy bad girl behavior, she gives a damn about school and grades and having a future. The thing she seems to have forgotten is that, usually, Tony does too. He grabs her hand, spins her around to face him again. "I don't want to play your games, Tony. You don't want to play mine. Now let go."

"Who said anything about games? I just need the best damn dancer in the school for a minute or two so I can nail my audition." There's his angel's smile again. It's bent girl's to his will before, but it's clear no amount of bull is going to convince Tea that this is a good idea. "Come on, Tay, just help me out. Please?"

He's only half talking about the dance at this point, she's confusing the fuck out of him with the mixed signals he's getting, and he wants to make this make sense. Also, she's the best dancer he knows and he wants to get this part.

"Fine." And he's pretty sure he shows way too much enthusiasm at her agreement. He works to smooth his mask back into place. "But after cheer practice. You're not the only one who needs my help." She adds with a smirk. With _his _smirk. Bitch.

"But I'm the most important." He reminds her, letting go.

"Only to you." She tosses over her shoulder as she walks back to class.


	5. Dance With Me

**AN: So the last few chapters have all been boring little bits of exposition and the tying up of lose ends, and it was a all a set-up for **_**this**_** chapter. So enjoy. And review, if one doesn't mind.**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Five**

**Dance With Me**

They're dancing again. Tea knows that this is a bad idea. Because the last time she danced with Tony, she slept with him. And she's not looking for a repeat. She's also conveniently ignoring the voice that tells her she's not looking to avoid one either.

It's really not her fault that he's such a good dancer. Or that he fits inside her space so effortlessly. It's really, really not. She's not enjoying this as anything more than the thrill of a good partner though. She's most definitely not. She doesn't push him away when he takes her hand to spin her away and back again, because it's just dancing. And this dance is too beautiful to stop.

He holds her two counts longer than he should, but she doesn't say anything, doesn't chastise him and have them start again. Doesn't dare interrupt the flow of this moment and this dance. And they're moving again, a dark intensity in his eyes as he circles her, almost predatory. And there's a helpless in her motions, a gravitational pull. They're puppets on the music's strings, and this time it's him who backs her against the wall.

He looks down at her, nearly ominous with the shadows falling over his face. She looks up at him, breathless and trapped. Heartbeats thundering in their chests, pressed together. Any second now, she's going to push him away. Any second now.

His hand comes up, brushes a stray piece of hair from her face, leans in. And she lets him.

The sound of the huge auditorium doors opening has them springing apart. "There you are." Michele smiles at Tony, nods a greeting to Tea. "Been looking all over for you."

"I told you I was going to practice." He snaps, more than a little annoyed at being interrupted, as he moves to the stereo and stops the music blasting out. "I need to get this down for the audition."

"You're going to be awesome, Tony. You always are."

"Because I always practice."

He's being harsher than usual, just a little colder. He's always fucked around with Michelle and fucked her over, but he's never really lashed out at her. He enjoys the spotlight of being half of the school's hottest couple too much.

"We're done anyway." Tea tosses out, hoping to stifle the growing undercurrents of anger between two of her best friends. She doesn't do drama.

"The hell we are." Tony growls, eyes narrowing at her.  
"Yes, Tony, we _are_." She refuses to back down, to be another pawn in his _I'm the king of all I see _scheme. So she walks out on him and Michelle and the tension rolling around the room that had been an escape for the duration of a stolen dance.

* * *

He kind of hates himself right this very second. He's sitting on the edge of the stage where he had held her for just a _second _before time slipped away, and he's fucking _pining_. He feels so damn lame it's not even funny. The lights have been cut to half power, the music has long since stopped, and still he stays. He imagines a hundred scenarios where Michelle doesn't find him, or finds him after it's too late and he's already kissing Tea. A thousand more where Tea doesn't brush him off the day after, where she just gives this a fucking _chance_. There are a dozen where they never have sex, where it stops with that first hesitant kiss and goes no further, but he can't stay focused on them for long.

"Tony Synder sitting alone in the dark, what a sight."

His head jerks up at the sound of her voice, and he almost wants to strangle her and be done with it. He's fed up with all the back and forth and the quiet rejections and soft acceptance, and he just wants some sort of real answer as to what the fuck they're doing.

"Tea Marvelli stalking through the halls of school after hours, what a sight indeed." He wonders where the banter has come from, given his rather morose state. But he's Tony and she's Tea, so maybe it's just the natural order of things. Dancing around each other in everything they do. Even when he just wants them to be still and direct for once.

"Shouldn't you be fucking Michelle six ways from Sunday?"

"Shouldn't you be nailing that Betty chick?"

"She bores me. They all bore me." The _you don't _is unspoken between them.

"I'm waiting for someone more interesting." _Like you _dies silent on his lips.

"Are you now?" She's raising her eyebrow just the slightest bit. A challenge, he thinks. He _hopes_.

Tony hops down from the stage and advances on her slowly, watching carefully for any sign that he's reading too much into things, that he's about to scare her off again. "Yes." And he's invading her space now, close enough to smell the coconut shampoo she uses. "So. Will you dance with me?"

"No."

He's about to back away, to shout, to scream, to ask her what kind of game she's fucking playing, but he doesn't get the chance. She wraps her arms around his neck and drags his lips down to hers. It's not a soft as the first, this kiss is far more demanding, but neither mind. It's closer to what they're used anyways. Passion and want and need, and god, they're burning again.

His hands come up to her hips, slip beneath the fabric of her tight shirt to touch soft skin. His grip on her is tight enough to bruise, but he he's too scared that she'll run away again to loosen his hold. Her fingers knot in his hair, pull him closer to her and deepen their kiss.

"Hey, you two!" A janitor shouts. "What are you doing in here. Scram!"

"Would it be considered a crime if I killed him, you know, given the circumstance?" Tea mumbles against his lips, even as he starts to pull away.

"Unfortunately..." Tony smirks before turning his attention to the bumbling moron who'd interrupted them. "Sorry, sir. We were practicing for show choir and then we, well, _weren't _practicing and we lost track of time." He orders his features into his most convincing mask, the one no one can stay made at.

"Whatever." Grumbles the janitor, "Just get out before I report you."

Tony snatches Tea's wrist and pulls her from the building.


	6. Dare You to Cross the Line Again

**AN: Gratuitous wall sex, anyone? Some nice lemony action for you guys, given the unending angst the last few chapters have turned out to be. **

**Dedicated to Idk for confirming the Monday hook-up. Thank you for making my week. You rock. **

**Warnings: Language, lemon**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Six  
Dare You to Cross the Line Again**

Tea pushes Tony up against the door he's just pulled her through. Presses herself against him. Kisses him hard and harsh and demanding, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Hands scurry with the buttons of his shirt to ghost over his arms and chest. Sensitive skin rising in goosebumps under her wandering hands as they ghost over lean muscle, taunt and smooth and hard from years of martial arts. The complete opposite of the gentle softness the others she'd had before, but, then, she'd known that already.

"Jesus _fucking _Christ." Tony growls out, because this is not a position he finds himself in often. He's always been the predator, stalking out his prey and devouring her, and now he finds himself the prey. And damn it all if it's not hot as hell being at her mercy. But he misses it, the control. The power of having her, especially _her_, under his hands. Of making her moan and scream and come undone beneath him.

So he's rolling them, pushing her back into the wall. His hands slide under the soft fabric of her shirt to touch softer skin. He pulls away from her lips, brands her neck and collarbone with a smoldering trail of kisses and licks and bites that sting and burn in all the best ways. She tastes real. None of Michelle's thousands of lotions, no perfume sprayed so heavily he can taste it on her skin, no pretense at all. Just heat and sweat and something unwaveringly Tea.

And he _wants _her.

But something, like the blood that's _not _rushing directly to his cock, tells him that maybe up against the school is not the best place for their second round. He reminds himself that this isn't some pointless hook-up, some easy girl he's messing around with behind Michelle's back just to prove that he can. This is Tea, and he had to fucking fight to get here. He is not going to screw it up.

He manages to pull himself away from her. Barely. She moans at the loss, and Christ, he wants her. He wants her so bad it fucking hurts.

"My place?" He pants.

"Later." She groans, crashing her lips against his again. Because she wants him, and she wants him _now_.

Well, who the hell is he to argue with that? He kisses her back hungrily, trying to memorize every second of this moment. He's half afriad that she'll snap to her senses at some point and remember who she is and who he is and why this doesn't make sense. His hands fumble with her jeans, skintight and clinging, and he can't get the damn button. Her hands, however, are having no difficulty unbuckling his belt and freeing him from the constraints of his slacks.

For the love of god, he needs to get these fucking jeans off her already. He needs to be in her. And, like a miracle, like a blessing from the big man upstairs, the button comes undone. He reaches into his back pocket to get his wallet and the trusty condom he keeps there. Rolls it on. Lifts her up, legs around his hips. Slides into her warmth.

He swallows the whimper that escapes her lips. He moves, keeps his lips to hers, silences her cries with his mouth. He wants to hear her, to make her scream, but this isn't the place. She clings to him as he pounds into her. Her nails digging in to his back through his shirt, like it's the end of the world. Maybe it is.

She comes, clenching around him tighter than he'd fucking thought possible, and he doesn't really have a choice but to follow. He may be a sex-god, but even his control isn't _that _good. His legs feel weak and he has to put a hand up against the wall to keep himslf upright.

Tea moves, pulls him out of her as she puts shaky legs on the ground again. Her head falls against his shoulder as she leans on him leaning on the wall. Tony strips off the condom and throws it off to the side, tucks himself back into his pants. Tea fixes her pants, pulls them back up.

And they're left in the almost, but not quite, awkwardness again. They don't know what they're supposed to do. She's not Michelle; he can't just make a quip about her tits, laugh, and walk away. And he's not some random girl she can smirk at and remind that she doesn't remember her name because she didn't _give _it. It's different, and their coping mechanisms simply don't _work _here.

"Come on, then." He breaks out a smile-smirk, pulls her after him as he starts backing away. His natural charisma is drawing her in and she's so tired of fighting him already and this doesn't have to be a bad thing, she hopes. So she smile-smirks back and follows.

* * *

Tony takes her home. Sneaks her in past his idiot of a father who just wants to yell at him about being out so late without so much as a phone call and his mother who was just "worried sick" and up the stairs while he plays the distraction. He can't sneak her past Eura, though, his sister's just as good as playing these games as he is. She raises an eyebrow because, of course, she just _knows _shit. A cocky shrug informs her he's not telling and that she should probably be home early tonight. He doesn't think he's be up early enough to distract their father. She rolls her eyes, gives a nearly imperciable nod.

Tea is waiting in his room, perfectly comfortable in his bed, when he gets away from his parents. This is probably the part where they're supposed to sit down and have a serious discussion. Where they shift through all the crap in their lives and find a label to slap on this...whatever it is. But Tony doesn't want to. He just wants to kiss her.

So he does.

And he doesn't stop.

He doesn't want to. Ever.


	7. It Isn't Supposed to Be This Way

**AN: I know, I know. I coped out on the second scene last chapter. I'm sorry, but I **_**suck **_**at lemons. They take me forever to write and, well, sometimes, less is more. Hopefully...Review, kindly. Or unkindly, if you're so inclined.**

**AN2: Chapter Eight is going up tomorrow right after the episode, just so you know.**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Seven  
****It Isn't Supposed to Be This Way**

When Tea wakes up, there is a gentle arm wrapped around her, hand on her hip. Holding her in an almost possessive embrace even as they slumber. The chest she's currently using as a pillow is well muscled, but it's still the most comfortable surface she's ever had the opportunity to sleep on. The stomach lying bare beneath her fingers is ribbed and cut, smooth muscle under even smoother skin. Suddenly the events of the previous night unfold in her mind, supplying a name for the firm but soft body that she's sleeping with...well, _on_.

Tony. She had sex with Tony. Again. She's got to be the worst lesbian in the history of ever. She wasn't even drunk this time, wasn't high. She has no excuse, no reason other than the one she simply refuses to admit. She had _wanted _him.

She _still _wants him.

And she _shouldn't_.

But she can't _stop_.

She tries to extract herself from his grasp, from this post-coital closeness that shouldn't exist because she shouldn't have slept with him. But his arms tighten around her, refuse to release her.

"Stay." Tony mumbles, his eyes still closed.

"I can't, Tone." She just _can't_. This can't be happening. But it is.

"Yes, you can." He says so calmly. Like this doesn't change everything forever. "Just close your eyes and go back to sleep. Just stop _hiding _for one day, Tea. For one _hour_."

"I'm _not _hiding." She denies angrily, even though she really, really is. Tony matches her; he sees through her. And she doesn't want him to. She suddenly misses the meaningless, boring, _safe _one night stands she used to have.

"Bullshit." And he still won't let her go. "I let you run last time. This time, you're gonna _stay_."

"Tony, you can't keep me here. I have to go home." She has to go just about anywhere but here.

"Why?" He won't open his damn eyes, and it's annoying her that he thinks that he can keep acting like this is normal when it's just _not_.

"Because my parents don't know where I am, and my father works for the _mob_." She almost hopes to scare him away, even though he already knows exactly who her father is.

"Lie." Like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"_Tony_." She's on the verge of pissed off at his point and if he doesn't let go she's going to knee him in places not meant to be kneed.

Finally, he opens his eyes. Looks at her with those sharp, dark eyes that see too much. "Tea. It's not the end of the world. It doesn't have to be. Just _relax_, dammit."

"Tony, let me go-"

"Damn it, Tay!" And his arms retreat. Unexpectedly, she immediately misses them.

"Get my phone." She finishes snidely, quietly pleased that she's managed to annoy him the way he's been irritating her since she woke up. She gets out of his bed, naked as the day she was born, her eyes wandering over the neatness of his room for the disarray of their scattered clothes. Ah, over _there_. Her jeans in a crumpled heap near the corner.

She ignores the feeling of his eyes on her skin as she bends down and fishes her phone from the pocket. Urg, seventeen missed calls from her father. She feels a headache coming on as she plays through the messages. They all pretty much run along the same lines of "where the hell are you?"

She quickly calls her father back. "Daddy?"

"Tea? Where the hell have you been?"

"Daddy, I'm _so _sorry. I was studying with a friend and I fell asleep."

"And you couldn't call?"

"I forgot. I'm sorry."

"We're having a serious talk when I get home tonight. You _will _be there when I get home, you understand."

"Yes."

"Good. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

Her dad hangs up, and Tea sighs heavily.

"Problems?" Tony asks like it's not blatantly obvious.

"Just pissed my dad off." Tea shrugs. The man is a big softy at heart. Mostly.

"Then get your sexy ass back in my bed." Tony grins and pats the matress beside him. And, what does it say about her that she's tempted? That she actually _wants _to? She's not _supposed _to. _Gay_, remember?

"I have to go." She forces the words out. And it should be easy. It's always been easy to leave the morning after. She turns away from him to scoop up her jeans, and without a sound he's behind her. He's turning her around and cupping her face with his hands, and she can't move. He kisses her, and she doesn't want to kiss him back because, dammit, she's trying to _leave _him. But she does, she kisses him.

And she can't remember why she's supposed to want to stop.


	8. I Feel See Through With You

**AN: We got JIPED! Motherfuckers! No actual scenes of their awesomeness, no nothing! -is outraged- Review. I need the moral support after this...**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins". **

**Chapter Eight  
****I Feel See-Through With You**

"How do you keep doing that?" Tea has to ask, because he's managed to get her into his bed again. He's managed to sleep with her. Again. Now she's lying next to him, in his bed where they've had sex, and it doesn't feel like it should. Like she should be running. He's Tony. He's her friend. She _trusts _him.

"Which part?" He's smirking like the arrogant bastard he is. She slaps his chest, and it's only _mostly _playful.

"The part where you fuck me even though I'm very thoroughly _gay_."

"Oh, that part. Not really sure." Tony grins, cocky as hell because he nailed a _lesbian_. More importantly, he nailed _this _lesbian. He got Tea. "But it's definitely my favorite. Mostly because without it the other parts can't happen, but still."

"You're a dick, you know that?"

"Mmhm. Apparently you like that."

"Bitch."

"Whore."

"Asshole."

"We are _such _a loving couple."

Tea almost chokes. Couple? They are _not _a couple. They're friends. They're friends who just happen to have had sex. A lot. That doesn't make them a couple. Doesn't make them anything. Sex and relationships are different. Having sex does not equal instant relationship. Tea doesn't do relationships. She doesn't do we. "I'm leaving now."

"Hmm, _what_?" Tony had clearly been dozing off while her thoughts had run rampant on how this is not a _relationship _and they are not a _couple _and sex is always _just _sex. His eyes snap open again at her apparently random declaration though.

"Have to meet my dad. Explain away the whole 'I didn't go home' last night thing." The excuse rolls off her tongue, effortless. This is what she's used to. Morning after reasoning and a calm facade that masks the prickly edge of panic hiding just beneath the surface.

She climbs from his bed, warm and comfortable and _tempting_, to make her way to her clothes strewn about the room. His eyes follow her, quizical and clinical, like she's some sort of specimen on a slide beneath his gaze. She doesn't like it. Can't stand it.

Tea feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with her nudity.

She slides into her skintight jeans and pulls on her shirt. He watches her in silence. It's unnerving. She almost wants him to say something, anything. Her leather jacket is across the room, lying half under Tony's. It's as she reaching for it that he decides to speak.

"You're running again."

"I have things to do, Tony." Tea snaps. She was wrong, she definitely prefers his silence.

"It's not even noon. Your dad works until at least seven. You don't have anything to do until then because it's Saturday and I haven't made plans." He looks at her with those damn knowing eyes again.

"The whole damn world doesn't revolve around you, you know." Tea shrugs into the leather, even more anxious to get the hell out of here than she had been a moment before. She's not running. She's not hiding. She's not. Tony is _wrong_.

_"He's Tony. He's alway right. Kinda annoying."_

Son of a _bitch_.

Tea's hand freezes on the knob, mid-turn.

"I'm running."

"Notice that, did you?" He asks with a hint of sarcasm, rising out of the bed and stepping into his pants.

"Why am I running?"

"Because you're gay, I have a dick, and the thought of commitment in any shape or form terrifies you."

"No, it doesn't." Tea whirls around to face him, all anger and denial.

"_Terrifies _you."

"You're an ass."

"And you're a coward. But neither is really the point right now."

"Fuck you."

"Already did. But again not the point."

"Then what is _the point_, oh All-Knowing One?"

"I don't bore you."

Tea opens her mouth to retort, but the words won't come. Because, damn it all, the fucking bastard is right. Again. And, yes, it _is _annoying.

"Now relax. This is not a _commitment_. I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend or whatever. It's _sex_."

"You want to be my friend with benefits?" She laughs. She has to; the idea is laughable. He's a boy, and she's gay. He's her friend who just so happens to be dating another of her best friends. Obviously, this hair brained scheme will never work.

"It may sound like a joke, but it works, Tay. _We _work." She's never seen him look so earnest. It's incredibly unsettling. Tony is a manipulator and a liar. He doesn't do _earnest_.

"What about Michelle? And our friends?"

"What about them? Our business is none of theirs."

"Something tells me Chelle's gonna think this her business."

"I screw around on Michelle all the time, Tay. She doesn't ask because she doesn't want to know."

"That just makes you a dick, Tone."

"Maybe. But it's true. She knows I'm fucking around. She doesn't know she knows, but she _does_."

"So your reasoning is that if you're going to be a cheating bastard, and you are, then why not be a cheating bastard with me?"

"My reasoning is that if I'm going to be a cheating bastard, and I am, why not do it with someone interesting?"

"Because I'm gay. And Chelle's one of my best friends."

"But you don't give a shit, remember? And you _want _me. You felt _something_,or you would have walked away in the club before we got anywhere near that couch."

"Fine. I felt something, alright? Now go away."

"Not fucking likely." Tony wraps his arms around her, tries to console her, but she doesn't want to be consoled. She's a big girl; she doesn't need to be coddled. "I finally got you in my bed...twice."

"I'm not playing this game with you, Tony." Tea jerks out of his hold. "I don't want to be part of your _I'm so fucking untouchable the whole world bows at my feet _delusion."

"Not the _whole _world." Tony shrugs, smirk still intact. "And, fine, don't play. But you still want me. And I still want you. And this..." He reaches around her, slides his hands over her body. Feels her shudder and lean into his touch. If at all possible, his smirk grows. "...is still going to happen."

"Christ, I fucking hate you." She growls out as her eyes close, because he just feels so damn _good_...

"Not true." He mumbles against her skin, lips brushing against her neck.

"Very, _very _true." She groans, even as she turns her lips to meet his.

He turns her around, pushes the jacket from her shoulders. Her hands leave him, curl under the hem of her shirt, and tosses it aside. And she shouldn't be doing this. _They _shouldn't be doing this.

The door swings open with a dull thunk and they're springing apart. Eura stands there, completely unaffected by the sight of her brother and his friend together half naked, before nodding her head back towards the stairs in a way that means nothing to Tea but Tony apparently translates easily.

"Right then." He smirks, reaching down to hand Tea her shirt. "Not that I don't love the view, but Baby Sister says the parentals have vacated the premise and now would be a good time to smuggle you out of here."

"You got all that from a nod?"

"She's my sister. We have like ESP or something."

Eura rolls her eyes, flips him the finger calmly, and disappears.

"That's fucking weird. You know that, right?"

"My whole life is fucking weird, Tay. I've learned to just roll with it." A careless shrug, like it's not his life they're talking about. "Keeps things interesting."

"You're really just totally fucked up, aren't you, Tones?"

"I suppose I really am. But at least it's never boring."

Tea shakes her head because, seriously, what the hell is wrong with them? Two complete fucked peas in a pod or some shit. She pulls her clothing back on, runs a hand through her hair. "Do I look like I've just gotten laid?"

"Thoroughly." The arrogant smirk is back. "And you might want to do something about the hickeys." His hands trace over the darkening marks lining her neck, and his touch is so damn tempting that she wants to kill him. Because it _shouldn't _be, and it _is_, and she has to _leave_.

"The magic of make-up. You boys never get to see what we _really _look like."

"Bullshit, Tay." And he's grinning like a complete asshole. "You know you could never hide from me."

"Whatever. I've got to go." Tea moves around him, walks calmly from his room.

She hasn't even gotten off his lawn before her phone is going off with his ring tone. Tea rolls her eyes and answers, "Clingy much?"

"Not quite. Just letting you know that there's a party tonight. Chris left me like nine messages to get the word out."

"Alright. If my dad doesn't kill me for not coming home last night."

"Just sneak out. What's he gonna do? Kill you twice?"

"Tony."

"All right, all right. But we'll all miss you if you're not there."

"You just want to get laid again.'

"Well, that'll happen regardless."

"But it won't be half as good." Tea smirks, before hanging up an him.


	9. Should Have Been You

**AN: It's all so damn complicated! I blame me…argh, I **_**hate**_**me. For those of you who don't hate me, take a minute to go R&R my new Tony/Tea fic "The Tightening of Screws" please. **

**Warnings: Language, lemon (kinda)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Nine  
****Should Have Been You**

Tony's hands are on Michelle, roving across her body, but his eyes are on Tea. She's dancing with some girl, nameless and unimportant. An unfamiliar burning settles his chest, and he doesn't like it. Michelle's hand travels up his arm to his neck and brings his head down to press her lips against his. This kiss is lazy and distracted, and he wants frenzied and desperate.

He closes his eyes, tries to ignore that fire in his chest, but all he sees is Tea dancing behind his eyelids. He growls with disgust at himself for allowing this simple arrangement to invade his life. He tears his lips away from Michelle's. She looks at him all hurt and annoyed, so he smirks and whispers in her ear, "I just need a drink, Nips." before disappearing. A _strong _drink. Maybe more than one. The vodka burns like acid, but it doesn't help dislodge the pain he has yet to name.

Tea watches him bolt from Michelle's kiss and she has to go make fun of him. It's what she does. "Getting bored?" And, god, that came out a hell of a lot more flirty than she'd meant.

His eyes rise to meet hers and suddenly the burning is gone because she's here with him instead of there with her. A smirk twists his lips. "Well, I can think of more interesting things, and _people_, to do..."

"Sorry, Tones. Got plans tonight. Hot, stacked, kinda slutty."

"Suits you then, Muffy."

"Suits me to the ground, brother."

"Did he just call you 'Muffy'?" Abbud interrupts. And when the hell had he gotten there? Tea realizes she should really start paying closer attention to these things now that she's having an affair and all. And how fucked up does that sound?

"Yep. Sure did, 'bbud." Tony shrugs it off. They're friends. Friends can have nicknames for each other. It means nothing. A brief moment of affection that doesn't need to be explained. Even as he's explaining it to himself. "Muff muncher and all."

"Still a dick, Tones."

"You love it."

"Whatever. I've gots to find my lady." And Tea's disappearing back into the chaos of the party and the burning is back and Tony is just staring after her like some sort of lost puppy. He blinks quickly, rapidly, clears his mind of stupid thoughts. Like how she tastes, or the feel of her hands on his skin, or how the softest little moan he's ever heard sounds dripping from her lips.

"Dude, you think she'd let me watch?"

"Not a chance in hell, buddy." Tony sneers because that will _never _happen. "Now, to quote a hot lesbian, I've gots to find my lady."

"There you are." Michelle greets him before shoving her tongue down his throat. Her effort is almost desperate, sloppy. Drunk. It would appear that he wasn't the only one drinking while he was away. "Missed you."

"Didn't miss me enough, you're still fully clothed." Tony smirks, because this is what he's good at. Being that guy. Belittle Michelle, bed her, find another random screw. This is what he _does_.

"So lets go somewhere, uh, more private."

"Sure, Nips."

She frowns at the name, but follows without complaint as he pulls her towards the stairs. Tea's there, her tongue lost in the mouth of the girl he doesn't know but suddenly hates. The burn flares up painfully, and it just _hurts_.

Tony blatantly stares for a moment before Michelle is pulling on him again, her lips against his ear. "Come on, Tony..." She trails her hands over him, but she's the last thing on his mind. He's frozen; the concept of motion is foreign. "Tony." Michelle is whining in his ear and he's trying to remember that his hot girlfriend wants to do something desperate and slutty to keep him, and he should be taking full advantage of that.

But he's not. He watching Tea tongue this girl, and he knows, he _knows_, that it should be him instead. He's feeling Michelle pressed against him and wishing it's Tea. And this is so fucked up because they're bene-friends, not lovers, and they can screw around if they want. It's just sex.

Or, at least, that's all it was supposed to be.

Tony closes his eyes, reminds himself that he's the king, and he's faltering, and drags Michelle up the stairs. His kisses are harsh, bordering just this side of violent, but she mistakes his rage for passion and kisses back just as hard.

He's sliding his hands over her body, ripping off clothes that only get in the way, and she feels wrong beneath him. The sounds, the moans sliding off her tongue, aren't the right ones. They're easy and much too loud; he wants soft whimpers pulled from reluctant lips. She tastes like vanilla body lotion and glitter, sticking to his tongue and making him sick even as he moves in her. She calls out his name again and again, but he just wants harsh pants and harsher curses.

For the first time since he decided Michelle was the only straight girl hot enough to stand at his side, Tony doesn't come. He tries. Thrusting hard and fast, trying to drown out her soft and replace it with Tea's harsh. But it doesn't work, and he hates that he's lost control of this situation so completely.

He pulls out, rips off the condom he hadn't needed, and gets out of the bed. Michelle looks up at him, drunk and satisfied and tired. "I'm going to party a bit more, Nips. You sleep it off."

"Don't call me Nips..." She slurs at him before her eyes close and she's dead to the world.

Tony rolls his eyes, wonders what the fuck he was thinking when he asked her to be his girlfriend. How he had thought for even a second that she could be the queen beside his king, when it was so obviously supposed to be Tea. He curses his impatience, his need to cement the throne inside his mind as quickly as possible. He had settled for the best _straight _option. He should have waited for the _best _option. He should have waited for his match. He should have waited for _Tea_.


	10. Nevermind, I Don't Feel Anything

**AN: It's short, I'm sorry. But it's really, **_**really **_**important. By the By, is there a reason no one really reviews this anymore? I mean I Am Pheonixphlame does every chapter, but no one else really does. Just one or two... Is it sucking? It's okay if it is, I'll fix it. But you have to **_**tell **_**me.**

**Dedicated to the above mentioned I Am Pheonixphlame for said reviewing. You're awesome.**

**Warnings: Language, lemon (kinda)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Ten  
****Nevermind, I Don't Feel Anything**

She's dancing again. God, she loves to just dance. To let go and forget how completely fucked her life's gotten. Emma's hot little body is pressed up against her, and Tea can already tell she'll be a good lay, just from the way she's moving against her now.

Something unnamable surges through her at the thought, but she refuses to acknowledge it. It almost feels as if it should be Tony pressing against her, hard in all the places Emma is soft. She smacks that thought down. She doesn't feel anything. Not about Emma. Not about Tony. Not about anything or anyone.

She's Tea Marvelli, and screwing hot girls is what she _does_.

Except Tony's popped up out of nowhere like a demented gerbil, his hand on her arm and looking at her with those ridiculous little, lost puppy eyes. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She's shifting her gaze between him and Emma as if to say _dude, quit _clit blocking _me_. But he's not getting the hint, hand still insistent on her arm and eyes damn near pleading. Tony doesn't plead. He doesn't beg. He doesn't do those things, but it's clear he's about to start if she doesn't go with him. And a small part of her wants to reject him here, to make him beg. To force him to be the one manipulated for once.

But she knows she's just like him, and who the hell is she to judge when they're exactly the same?

"Sure, Tone." The words come out easier than they should. She should be annoyed because, hello, hot girl with the sexy dancing time, but she's not. Stepping away from Emma is just as easy as it should be, a near silent protest from her raging hormones followed by nothing. "Give me a minute, babe?" Emma's a little drunk and Tony looks a little pitiful, so the other girl just nods and lets them go.

Tony hasn't let go of her yet, and it kind of scary the way he's pulling her along so single-mindedly. She's half-afraid Cadie's OD'd again or something equally dramatic and urgent. But she also knows that if that had happened everyone else would have been in an uproar, and right now Tony seems to be the only one panicking. Which is terrifying in it's own way.

He drags her up the stairs and halfway down the hall, before it occurs to her to _stop _him. "Tony. _Tony_, what the hell are you doing and where the fuck are you taking me?"

He doesn't answer with words, just stops and turns into a room so abruptly Tea nearly crashes into him. Then, he's kissing her, all want and need and some sort of desperate she can't even begin to understand. She doesn't even realize they're moving until her back hits the wall. The music has the whole house shaking, vibrating against her against him.

And this isn't the place for this. For him to hold onto her hips so tight she's sure there'll be bruises later. For her to tangle her fingers in his hair and pull him closer. For his teeth to bite down on her bottom lip and demand entrance into her mouth. For her readily let him in and meet his tongue with her own. It's the wrong place and the wrong time, and the door's still fucking _open_, but, damn it all, it's happening.

He tastes like vodka and cigarettes, familiar in a way that it shouldn't be. His hands are rough, calloused in ways the girls' she sleeps with never are. They slide under her shirt, glide over her stomach and then up, lifting the material impeding his touch. The kiss breaks for the second it takes to get the damn thing off, and then his lips are back on hers, attacking again before she can question this moment of pure, blind _insanity_.

But she's unbuttoning his shirt and dominating his tongue with hers, so maybe she just doesn't want to question it. He pulls his mouth away from hers, kisses his way down neck, nipping at the tender flesh as he goes. His hands are making quick work of the button of her skinny jeans this time, and her hands are matching his and-

"Tony?"

_Fuck_.


	11. A Breeze to Cause a Storm

**AN: Alrighty, first of thanks to those who listened to my last author's notes and reviewed. Second, it's all coming down from here on out...hehehe**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Eleven  
****A Breeze to Cause a Storm**

"Tony?"

_Fuck_.

There is no way to explain this away. No way to even pretend that this isn't exactly what it looks like. Tea's shirt is gone, halfway across the room, and Tony's is barely on, half hanging off his shoulders. Their pants are undone, slung so low on their hips right now that it seems obscene.

No, for all of Tony's brilliance, there's no way to bend this situation to his advantage. So he decides not to try.

"Michelle." He greets with a grin brimming with _aw, you caught me_ like the dick he really is. He's shielding Tea with his body, hoping she goes unnoticed. Trying keep the explosion as small as possible so he can still pick up the pieces after the smoke has cleared. "It's not what it looks like?"

Even drunk as hell, Michelle is not that stupid. "What the fuck, Tony?" She's storming in, slapping the hell out of him. He takes it with a smile, because it doesn't hurt him to hurt her. Not like it should. "And who the fuck is that?"

And that's the question he didn't want her to ask, because everything is about to go straight ot hell.

"Hey, Chelle..." Tea answers, exposed and unashamed in the face of betrayal.

"You! You boyfriend stealing whore! She hand flies out and the sound of her bitchslap against Tea's cheek is louder than the music around them. Tea just takes it, she deserves it after all. She's been sleeping with her friend's boyfriend and she always knew this would happen. Secrets like this don't stay secret long, and they had been careless. "You were supposed to be my _friend_. My _gay _friend."

"I'm sorry, Michelle." Tony says, he even manages to sound sincere even though he's not.

"Go to hell. _Both _of you." And she's crying, tears that pain and anger and more than a little hate. "Just go to fucking hell."

Tea grabs her shirt and shrugs it on while Tony starts doing up his jeans. And Michelle watches them with all her hurt and betrayal. It's moments like this that really highlight how completely fucked up they are, how similar. This betrayal should affect them something terrible, should make them feel guilty. Feel like a shit boyfriend and shit friend.

But Tony's more worried about collateral damage to his kingdom and trying to think of way to use his golden tongue to weave silver webs of lies and make this seem okay. And Tea just wants this all to be over. The dramatics, the accusations, the empty words. All of it. So tedious and unnecessary. Yes, it was a betrayal. Yes, they're horrible people.

Does Michelle honestly think they're not _aware_?

But she's spitting venom, words shouted and screamed, and no one's listening. She's ranting. Raving about Tony and Tea and herself. And no one is _really _listening. They already know what she's going to say before the words leave her mouth. They know everything about everyone. They see everything everyone tries to hide. There is nothing they don't notice. Not about each other. Not about themselves. Not about anyone.

They _know_.

Michelle's still screaming at them and throwing random objects around the room like the end of the world because it's the end of _hers_. People are noticing, sticking their heads inside the room to witness the drama unfolding. The conclusions they draw are both obvious and true. Which wouldn't matter if the only spectators were unimportant gate crashers.

But Daisy's there too, eyes wide with disbelief and confusion. Abbud looks like he's been slapped. Chris looks about ready to bolt; he doesn't handle conflict well.

"Enough!" Tea finally shouts. She's had enough of this. "I fucked him. He fucked me. It's all very sordid and fucked. Now can we all shut the fuck up about it?"

"No. Because my _lesbian _friend just fucked my _boyfriend_, and I'm a bit drunk and more than a bit pissed the _fuck _off." Michelle counters, slapping Tea once more. This time, Tea hits back. A solid, hard punch to the face that has Michelle on her ass in less than a second.

She looks up at them both, tears black with mascara. "You _hit _me."

"I did." Tea nods, tired of all the damn drama already. "And now I'm leaving."

The crowd parts like the Red Sea as she passes. Daisy looks at her like she doesn't know what exactly she's supposed to do, torn between confronting one friend and comforting another.

Tony looks down on his girlfriend who isn't anymore, and walks away from her. He doesn't look back as a fresh sob fights it's way out of her lips. He doesn't care. He never really did.

He's already running through battle plans in his head, plotting out how to spin this in the best possible way. But first, before he can enact any of the devious schemes rolling around his brain, he has to find Tea again. Has to find out where they stand and where they go from here and...

He doesn't know. He just has to find her.


	12. Say When

**AN: So...I wrote some **_**fluff**_**...For this ship...where normally there is only angst or sex or angsty sex. It's kinda cute, if I do say so myself. This ship NEEDS more fluff. They can be cute! I swear! -gestures wildly- Please review. My fluff skills are a bit worse for lack of use and I want to know I did well. Or failed horribly, if that's your opinion.**

**AN2: Five reviews in one day equals same day update!**

**Warnings: Language, FLUFF**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Twelve  
****Say When**

She's sitting calmly on the merry-go-round where they had their first date when he finds her. He's not sure why he thought she'd be there, but he did and she is. His first instinct is to say something witty and slightly sarcastic, but that's probably not the best way to go about it this time round. He doesn't want to start another fight or spark another battle of wits. Not this time. So instead, he just sits down beside her, offers her a cigarette and the use of his lighter, and lights up one of his own.

They smoke in comfortable silence, for once content with things just as they are instead of how they wish them to be. The stars glow in the dark sky, beautiful and radiant. It's the perfect atmosphere for life altering confessions and declarations of love, but neither of them has ever been the type for such things. He thinks about it though, about suddenly staring into her eyes and professing his undying love.

A dark chuckle bursts unexpectedly from his lips because in his mind's eye he can see the look of absolute terror on her face followed by her wicked right hook before she storms away from him and never looks back. And it's not like he would have meant it anyways. He thinks she's hot and interesting, and he definitely feels _something _for her, but _love_? He's pretty sure it's just a fucking myth anyways. Tea quirks her eyebrow in curiosity, but he couldn't explain it without scaring off this quiet truce they seem to have going on right now, so he doesn't try.

The red embers of their cigarettes burn gently, smoke drifts upwards lazily and is scattered by the wind. And it's peaceful, this moment, between the two of them. They're always at war with each other, words and schemes and sex are just the tools of the trade. Who's going to end up on top; who's going to win it all in the end? Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight and it never ends because it's battle after battle after battle and no one ever wins.

But tonight there is peace. Because tonight, they both lost.

"We really fucked up, didn't we?" He asks with a small laugh that lacks humor in any form. He was a king once, a god among men, and tonight he acted impulsively and irrationally and he threw away the kingdom he had made.

"Yeah, I guess we really did." Tea shrugs, takes another drag. She could blame him. She knows it. He knows it. It's his fault for chasing when she ran, for seeking when she hid, for just refusing to let it be a night of drunken fun for them to forget about. It's his fault. His fault. His fault. _His fault_.

But she doesn't blame him. Not really. And they both know that too.

He could blame her too, if he wanted. Blame her for starting it all. For kissing him, for going to the couch knowing he would follow, for not saying no when he stopped to ask, for not hiding well enough or running hard enough, for giving in when he asked her to stay. It's her fault too.

But he doesn't blame her either. Not even a little bit, not anymore.

"Should have brought vodka. Be just like old times, yeah?" He smiles, a real smile, and pushes lightly off the ground. They only spin for half a turn but it makes her laugh, once, so it's enough. And when it stops spinning and her laughter dies out, his smile fades into his crocodile mask, half sincere. But half for Tea is far more than he's ever let through for anyone else.

"Hey, _you _found _me_." She admonishes. "If you wanted to get liquored up, you should have brought your own." As if to highlight this fact, she pulls out her handy dandy mini bottle. Travel-sized for all the illicit fun a stupid teenager can get into these days.

Tony's response is to tackle her for the bottle, smile back full force as they wrestle and Tea's comes into play. He's got one hand wrapped around hers around the vodka; the other is tight on her wrist and pinning it to the smooth metal of the marry-go-round. He's lying on top of her as he struggles to retrieve the bottle, but he's not trying all that hard, and she flips them. Now she's straddling him, bottle clenched tight in her fist, high above her head. And she's wearing the most dazzling smile he's ever seen.

He reaches half-heartedly for the bottle, but she just stretches, hoisting it further from his disadvantaged reach.

"That's cheating." He laughs, reaching for it once more.

"Is _not_." She feigns outrage at his accusation.

"Is _too_." He challenges, reversing their positions again. "Share, Tay. It's what friends are for."

"Don't wanna." Tea teases, and he's never seen her tease anyone this way, childish and free of scorn. And he feels fucking _special_.

"Share, or so help me God, I'll tickle you." He threatens. He's not sure where the words come from, but they slip out and he doesn't even know if she _is _ticklish. They've never had that kind of relationship, always too busy silently fighting to play such childish games. Now, he wishes they'd played them sooner.

"You wouldn't fucking dare." She growls, but it's mostly playful so he takes it as an invitation.

"You know me better than that, Tea." He lowers his hands to her ribs and begins to tickle her mercilessly, almost the way he had with Eura when they were both too young to care. She tries to use her free hand to push him away, but she's laughing too hard. She's laughing and threatening him and cursing like a sailor whose been shot, and he's laughing and demanding and grinning like a damned fool.

"Alright! Alright!" Tea shouts after she's run out of swears and breath and her ribs hurt from laughing so much. "Take the damn thing."

His hands retreat from her slowly, and he's starting to realize the position they've ended up in. Him on top of her, nose to nose as he reaches for the vodka and she finally lets he have it. Suddenly, drinking is the last thing on his mind.

He kisses her, and it's different from all the kisses before. It's slow and soft and sweet and everything he never is, instead of demanding and harsh and everything he tries to be. It's...nice. Okay, screw _nice_, it's actually kind of damn near perfect.

When he pulls away, he sees fear in her eyes again. Always so afraid of feeling anything. He doesn't blame her, not really. He's not such a big fan of emotion either. It controls you, makes you do stupid things, and Tony prides himself on his control, on not doing stupid things ever.

Except he did a stupid thing tonight, for Tea, so he guesses emotion is already in the mix.

"I'm still gay, Tony." She whispers. Why is she whispering?

"I'm still a manipulative bastard." He confirms, just in case she's wondering. And he's whispering too. It just makes sense, regular words just seem too loud.

"So, what the fuck are we doing?"

A whole lot of answers pop into his head at once. Each other, nothing, having fun, falling in love, matching, keeping each other entertained, messing around. But none of the answers feels like the one he should _say_. One feels kind of true, honest in a way he, personally, never is. It's also the one that would have Tea running for the hills and never looking back.

"I don't know." It feels like the safe choice. Maybe it's the only choice. At the very least, it's not really a lie. He lost control of this situation a long time ago and the answers he's always had don't really seem to apply here. The standard way of going about to make sure he gets exactly what he wants won't work. He could never work Tea over the way he could everyone else. It's like trying to convince your reflection that the smile is real; you can always see the truth in the eyes. Can't lie to yourself, after all. And they're just the same, so he can't lie to her.

He gets off her, suddenly cold everywhere she isn't touching him anymore. He resists the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders. She'd probably let him, right now in this moment of this temporary calm, but he doesn't want to become accustomed to actions, or feelings, that she'll never let him get away with again.

Silence envelopes them again, comfortable and safe and perfect. It scares him. This easy perfection. The effortlessness it takes. The lack of scheming and plotting and acting. The loss of control of everyone and everything and himself. But he kinda likes it. He's always been in control of everything, it feels..._different _to just let it go. Slipping through his fingers like water cupped in his palms. Inevitable.

He lights another cigarette, hands another to Tea. They light up and watch the smoke burn. Her head flops down on his shoulder, and it feels like she was made to lean against him, every part of her aligning with every part of him in easy, effortless perfection.

"I've decided then." He says softly, shattering the silence with the harshness of his whisper. She looks up at him, still pressed against his side, so jaded from all the games, the battles, the wars. He kisses her, just as soft as the one before it. And she lets him, doesn't run anyway, doesn't hide from him and his touch and whatever it is that he makes her feel. "I've decided, to let you decide."

Tea laughs. Pulls away from him, suddenly bitter and sarcastic again, "You mean I can make _my own _decisions, Tony?"

"I mean," And he sounds so damn tired, because he is. They're been dancing around the reality of who they are and what they've been doing, and what exactly this is, and he's just _tired_. "That I'm not chasing anymore, Tay. You want me to go away? Leave you alone? The gang would probably take you back. You could tell them you were drunk and high and I took advantage or whatever. I could do it, if you wanted."

He gets up, stomps out the remnant of his cigarette. Watches her watching him, trying to read something in her eyes.

"Tony..." She trails off, not quite sure what she was going to say.

"Or, you could decide that this, whatever the fuck it is, is something you want. In whatever shape or form you want it in." He starts backing away from her, steps off the marry-go-round. "All you have to do, Tay, is say when. And I'm there, however you want me."

And he's turning around and walking away from her stunned look, her disbelief. He's Tony fucking Snyder, and he just gave up all the control in this equation, this _relationship_. He put everything in her hands, left it all up to her.

And then, he _walked away_.


	13. The World's on Fire

**AN: Whoa! Everybody's reviewing now! -is happy- Another five reviews in just a couple hours. How could I not update again? YAY for reviewing.**

**Warnings: Language, violence of a sort of graphic nature**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Thirteen  
****The World's On Fire**

The classroom feels ominous even before he walks through the door and sees the people who are supposed to be his friends. Tea is steadily avoiding his gaze. Chris is stoned. Michelle, her eye bruised from Tea's blow Saturday night, is glaring daggers into the moment he crosses the threshold. Daisy is holding her hand, obviously in comfort. Cadie is looking at him like he's some kind of criminal. Abbud just looks uncomfortable. And Stan...well, Stan is stalking toward Tony with more rage than Tony had thought him capable of.

The blow is hard and vicious. Tony hears Stan's punch before he really feels it. The horrible smacking impact of skin on skin, hard on soft, fist on face. Then he feels it, a burgeoning pain blossoms in his face. Stan's fist comes back again, and Tony decides that one freebie is all his best friend gets. He brushes aside the oncoming fist with a well-practiced move, one hand wrapping around his wrist, drawing up his other to punch Stan's nose.

Blood spurts from his face, heavy and thick and so damn red, but Tony continues his assault because, damn it, he's _already _the fucking bad guy. He doesn't have to be the beat-up loser as well. The next punch lodges in Stan's abdomen, forces all the air out of his lungs in a wheezing gush. Then Tony releases Stan's captured wrist, digs his hands into the boy's shoulders and brings his knee up, hard and fast, into Stan's balls.

Stan's mouth pops into an "O", a silent scream, as pure agony contorts his features and tears begin to seep from his eyes. Tony lets his best friend go, and he drops to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

"Anyone else want to have a fucking go?" Tony challenges, still more than a little pissed because they've all rushed to Michelle's side and no one's even asked why he did it. They just fucking assumed. So fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all. There's a delicate tap on his shoulder, followed by a decidedly less delicate slap when he turns around. "I'm not going to fight a girl, Chelle."

"But _I _will." Tea interrupts with her fist. Michelle hits the floor. Again. Michelle starts to get up, hand on her face and curses spewing from her lips.

"Son of a mother fucking whore..."

"Don't get up, Michelle. I've already blackened both your eyes at this point; you _really _want me to break the nose next?" Tea says, way too calm to have just decked one of her best friends. Michelle, wisely, shuts her damn mouth and crawls over to Stan, who is still very much in pain.

Tea grabs Tony's face in her hands and turns his head to the side. Still holding his chin with one hand, she brings the other to the bruise that's already swelling and darkening under his eye. "You'll be fine, you pussy." She smirks before lightly slapping the wound. He winces at the stinging contact and smothers the urge to push her against the wall and fuck her senseless in front of the whole damn class. He figures it wouldn't help anything and wouldn't exactly qualify as him leaving it up to her.

She presses her lips to the exact same place she'd smacked and it doesn't hurt anymore. In fact it kind of tingles pleasantly. It's clearly a sign of the impending apocalypse, because such a simple touch should not affect him so drastically. She takes her hands from him, and his twitch to put them back, to make her touch him again.

She walks past him and heads towards the door.

"Ditching, really?" He asks, remembering his words abruptly. She's going to leave them all in this mess.

"Fuck it, Tone. Just fuck it." And she's gone. Part of him, a part bigger than he'd like, wants to follow her. But he's giving her space or time or some shit like that, so he can't.

Michelle is still silently willing his head to explode when the teacher walks in and the tardy bell rings.

"What happened to _him_?" He asks, confused by the sight of one of students on the floor

No one answers. No one but the gang is really sure, and their dying loyalty to Tony means that they won't rat him out...yet. Or maybe it's in the defense of Stan, who technically started the fight. Stan has enough problems at school without getting suspended for fighting, whereas Tony is pretty much the golden boy, every teacher's favorite.

"He walked into a table, sir." Tony lies, pulling out his thousand kilo-watt smile. "You know..._there_...and his face hit a desk on the way down. It was really rather ugly."

And because Tony is a golden angel who does his class work and his homework and aces every test, he could have said angry rabbits had jumped through the window to beat up Stan, and the dumbass would have believed him wholeheartedly. So their teacher just grimaces and nods. "Someone help him to the nurse...That nose looks nasty."

"I'll take him." Michelle offers, rising to her feet.

"And what happened to you?" Because Michelle has one black eye at this point, and the other is red and swelling unpleasantly.

"Tripped on a skateboard while visiting a friend. Face-first. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Right then, Right then. Take him." He gestures, a little unconvinced because she's not Tony, so people aren't obligated to buy into her bullshit.

She helps Stan to his feet, and glares daggers when Tony moves to help them both. Hell, he may have been the one to do the damage, but that's still his best friend, and she doesn't have to be a bitch about this. But in the interest of peace, he puts his hands up in surrender and lets them limp past slowly before taking his seat.

His face is starting to throb unpleasantly, and Tea walked away without him. _That _little tidbit actually hurts more than his face, and he thinks that's all kinds of fucked up.

It's going to be a fucking long day...


	14. Under Control

**AN: Well, this is just gettting ridiculous...Don't stop. lol. Dedicated to *couch*reviewer number 5*cough* Just so you can do your homework...or some other lame excuse coupled with good timing...**

**AN2: I have everything but the very last chapter finished, so mucho reviews equals absurdly frequent updates. As evidenced by this being the FOURTH update today. (Seriously, though, you guys rock. Hard.)**

**Warnings: language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Fourteen  
****Under Control**

"Daisy! Hey, Daze!" Tony calls after her as she starts out the class with at a group of other students whose names he doesn't know or really care to. They're unimportant. But Daisy picks up her pace, trying to avoid him, but he chases her down. His fingers reach out and wrap around her elbow, turn her around to face him, to force her to listen. He's not letting go until she does.

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Tony." Daisy sighs, jerking on her elbow a little but he doesn't release her.

"Fine. Whatever." He brushes off her dismissal with a shrug. "But this isn't about me so...five minutes?" It's phrased as a question, but he's clearly not going to take no as an answer at this point.

Daisy sighs heavily and lets him pull her out of the flow of the meandering students. Abbud shoots her a look as he passes, but she shakes her head. Might as well hear the prick out now, so she can shut him down and not have to deal with him again. "What do you want, Tony?"

"I get it. I'm the fucking bad guy, and you're all pissed at me. Fine and fucking dandy. But, Daze, no one is asking any questions. About anything. And that'd be fine if I'd been caught with some random bimbo, but, Daisy, it was _Tea_.

"It was Tay, and no is curious as to why, exactly, our _lesbian _friend was fooling around with _me _of all people."

Daisy opens her mouth to tell him to just shut the fuck up because she doesn't want to hear it, but he's starting to actually make sense. So she closes it again and lets him finish.

"You're supposed to be her best friend. And I know that doesn't mean all that much these days, seeing how mine just tried to trounce me and all, but, Daze..." He trails off, uncertain how to proceed without flat-out begging her to talk to Tea. He screwed up by not ending things with Michelle, by stupidly allowing his feeling, however confusing, to overrule his reason. So it's fine if they all want to hate him. It's just fucking _fine_. He played with fire and he burned his world to the ground, but Tea's doesn't have to go up in flames with it.

"Holy shit." Daisy says, eyes wide with incredulous disbelief. "You fucking like her. Like, _like _her."

"Just talk to her, Daze." Tony says backing away from her and this conversation that has, like so many thing in his life involved with Tea, spiraled rapidly out of his control.

* * *

Tea sighs as she watches the little kids playing. She's getting odd looks from the moms because she should obviously be in school and she's not. She's sitting in the park where Tony decided not to decide, and wondering what the fuck she's going to do now. She'll never really be part of the gang again, that's clear. The heavy weight of her and Tony's betrayal will hang over them all unbearably if she so much as tries. If they'd _let _her try. She's already punched Michelle twice so she doesn't think they'll be too incline to let her.

And she's not really too inclined to. Maybe Daisy and Abbud will take her back, though. They're two of her best friends, and she'll fucking miss them if they decide that she can't be forgiven. She reaches into her pocket for the miniature bottle she always has, but one of the moms is still eyeing her suspiciously.

"Christ." Tea sighs, leaving the bottle untouched in her jacket and standing up. She doesn't need more fucking scrutiny right now. She's doing quite enough self-examination right now; the rest of the world can go fuck itself for all she cares.

* * *

Lunch, Tony realizes as he ambles into the cafeteria, is a potentially lonely and destabilizing affair. He can't sit with his "friends" because they're _not _anymore. He could integrate himself into a different clique and assume command in that effortless way he just does, or construct a new group to replace the old. He could sit alone and read while he eats.

Or he could bail entirely and go get high.

That last sounds like the best plan for today. It feels too soon to start replacing his friends with strangers. So he turns around and abandons the lunchroom in favor of the boy's bathroom A little clichéd, he knows, as he lights the joint, but why not? It's a stereotype for a reason.

"I smell spliff." A familiar voice says before Chris's face pops up over the wall of Tony's stall. "Sweet! unlock the door. We can mix and match." He adds, holding up an orange prescription bottle and a water bottle that Tony sincerely doubts is filled with actual water.

A smirking smile twists his lips as he undoes the latch and Chris come in. It's almost just like old times as he takes the water bottle with one hand and passes Chris the joint with the other. He takes a long pull from the bottle and the immediate burn confirms his theory about the bottle's contents.

"Whatcha got?" Tony asks nodding towards the pills.

"Oxy." Chris grins, taking another hit. "Been _flying _all day, man."

Well, fuck, pain killer sound fucking fantastic at this point. His face is killing him, everything in his life has pretty much gone all to hell, and being numb like the best damn plan he's heard in a while.

"Yeah?" He holds out a hand and Chris obligingly places two little, white pills in his palm. Tony tosses them back, washes them down with the vodka, and takes a hit from the joint. The bell rings just as the chemicals start to kick in, and fuck last period, he doesn't care. Chris doesn't seem to mind the idea of ditching either, as he makes no move to leave. "You're not all pissed at me like the others, then?" The words slip out easy while he's under the influence, the smallest undercurrent of insecurity flashing across his face before he remembers to mask it.

"Nah, man." Chris smiles, half genuine and half too high to care. "It's all just fun, right? So fuck it. Fuck all of it."

"Yeah, Chris." Tony agrees, quietly happy to still have at least one friend when he thought he'd had none. "Just fuck it."


	15. Strong Till You Break

**AN: Hey, not actually sure what Tea's brother's name is, so I went with Danny. It's a nice name. He looked like a Danny, doesn't he? **_**Lie **_**to me, self-delusion is the source of some of my best work. **

**Warnings: language, Tea/Daisy friendship, gonna say OOC there at the end. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Fifteen  
****Strong Till You Break**

"Hey, it's the lesbian!" Danny shouts over the chaos that passes for conversation during Marvellli family dinners. Or any Marvelli family meal actually. Or any situation which requires the family to be in the same room for any period of time, really.

Tea's head shoots up from here she had been staring aimlessly at her mashed potatoes as the whole table quiets.

"I'll talk to him, I'll talk to him." Her dad says at his wife's pointed look.

Daisy comes in a second after Danny's returned to the table, cell phone back in its place, permanently attached to his ear. Tea stands, unsure if this is going to end in her having to smack down another friend who's decided she isn't. She hopes not. She loves Daisy. She really does. "We're gonna study." She shrugs, as if this had been planned, and abandons her mostly full plate to the eager hands and greedy mouths of her sister's sons.

The silence between them is heavy and uncomfortable as they go up the stairs and into Tea's room. The door closes behind them with a soft click, and then the deafening silence reigns over them again.

"Why'd you do it, Tay?" The words are barely a whisper, but they're heard.

"I don't know, Daze." Tea shakes her head because she _doesn't _know. "It just sort of...happened, I guess. He was my date, you know. The one my dad set up. And it was good. Best damn date of my life.

"He matched me, Daze. _No_ one matches up to me. But _he _did. So I took him to Northern Soul and we danced and I kissed him."

"Wait, wait, wait. _You _kissed _him_?" Something in her tone rankles Tea. Like Daisy had been hoping that Tony had taken advantage of her while she was drunk and wasn't thinking clearly, and the blame for this whole thing could be pushed onto his shoulders and his alone.

"And then I fucked him." The words come out just a little spiteful, because the sex had definitely been her idea. Because she walked away from his kiss and waited for him to follow her to the couch. And he had _hesitated_, and he had _asked_, had wanted to be sure that _she _was sure. So this isn't his just his fault, and she's not letting him take the all the blame for something they fucking did _together_.

"But you're _gay_!" Daisy gasps, looking at her like she's never seen her before in her life.

"Didn't matter, Daze. We _matched_." Tea shakes her heads again. She doesn't know how to make her understand. Daisy's not like them, like her and Tony, she's not broken the way they are. And that's great for her, really, it is. But it also means that she will never grasp the importance of finding a person who tightens the screw and makes you work right again. Even for just a second. A person that connects when no one else does.

"So you've just been screwing around behind Michelle's back this whole damn time?"

"Not exactly. You know me, get some and get gone. It's what I do. But Tony wouldn't let it go. He just kept pushing and pushing. And, fuck, he was _right_, okay? He made me feel something."

"What? Loathing? Disgust?" Daisy throws out almost hopefully.

"Less alone."

"You're not alone, Tay. We have me and Abbud and anyone else you fucking want."

"You don't get it, Daze." Tea pauses, unsure how to continue without hurting the other girl's feelings. "It's like...you go on a date, Daze. You meet a nice guy. Cute and funny and interested in more than just your tits. And you take him and fuck him senseless. And he's great in the sack and not a complete asshole in the morning. How do you feel, Daze?"

"I don't know, Tay." Daisy's looking at her funny, trying to figure why they're talking about her instead of Tea. "I'd like him, I guess."

"And you'd want to see him again?" Tea presses and Daisy doesn't know what she's trying to get at but she hopes she gets there soon.

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Well, that all happens to me every night, okay?" Tea says, feeling something frighteningly similar to an emotional breakdown creeping up out of fucking nowhere. "I meet girls and they like me. They're hot, and I take them home, and we fuck like it's the end of the goddamned world. And then it's morning and I don't_ feel anything_, Daisy. Utter and complete disconnect. I don't feel a fucking _thing_."

"Shit, Tay..." Daisy wraps her arms around her friend, and Tea doesn't know where the tears come from but suddenly she's crying like a little bitch and she wants to punch herself in the face for acting like a stupid, little girl.

"There's something _wrong _in my head, Daisy, and he fixes it. He fucking _fixes _it."

"Christ, it's okay, Tay." Daisy soothes, wondering how she could claim to be her best friend and not know something so fucking important.


	16. Share the Silence

**AN: So, just a little interlude before it gets all dramatic again. Takes place a few days after Daisy and Tea's conversation. I considered writing Tea's angsty internal battle about what to do, but it felt frivolous. Plus, more fun with rarely seen/used secondary characters! Yay?**

**Warnings: language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Sixteen  
****Share the Silence**

Tony's house had never seemed so intimidating before. It's just a house. A plain, boring, downright _ordinary _house.

So why is she standing on the porch, hand hovering just above the doorbell, completely terrified to actually ring it?

_Fuck it_.

She pushes the bell, refuses to be frightened by a damn house. No matter who happens to live there or what it means that she's there at all. The door swings open before she can even lower her hand.

Standing there, completely nonchalant and bored, is Eura in all her silent glory. She looks different in the light of the sun instead of the pale moon or harsh fluorescents, face clean of makeup instead of painted to be seductive and coy. Blue jeans and a tee-shirt instead of ripped tight and micro minis and vests that cover the bare essentials and not much else. Playing the role of perfect daughter for her parents instead of the silent and enigmatic, Tony-esque visage Tea's seen at the few parties they both happened to be at.

"You've been standing there the whole time, haven't you?" Tea asks with a self-deprecating smile that's really more of a grimace. Eura's simple but knowing nod confirms that she witnessed Tea's moment, or rather several moments, of crippling uncertainty. "Of course you were."

It's such a Tony thing to do, to make her stand out there like a moron until she manned up enough to actually do something before opening the door. Eura steps aside ad lets Tea inside, the door swings shut behind them.

"Right...Tony in?" Tea asks. Eura shakes her head and puts her hand to her lips in the universal sign for smoking. "Out for a smoking?" Another negative response and a rising of her eyebrow. "Went to get more?" Affirmative this time, Eura's lips quirking into a half-smile. Jesus, how does her family deal with this? Tea almost asks, but she figures it's just easier for her parents to ignore it and Tony, of course, doesn't seem to have a problem deciphering exactly what she's trying to say. "You know when he'll be back?"

A careless shrug that could be _any minute now_ or possibly _I don't have a fucking clue_. Tea's not really sure which, but it's as much of an answer as she's likely to get. It doesn't matter which one it is anyway because her options are pretty much limited either way. She can stay and hope he shows up sooner rather than later, or she can leave now and come back later.

"You mind if I wait?" Tea asks because she's pretty sure if she goes now she won't have the courage to come back again. She wasn't entirely convinced she'd go through with it _this_ time.

Eura starts off towards the living room with a slight tilting of her head that tea takes to mean she should follow. So she does, vaguely wondering how she went from being the head bitch in charge to following Tony's sister's silent orders. It's actually a little disconcerting.

But then, she's a lesbian about to tell a boy that she's like to keep fucking him, so maybe disconcerted is exactly the way she's supposed to feel…

Eura points to the couch in a silent command and then disappears into the kitchen. Tea sits down hesitantly and Eura comes back with two bottles of root beer to settle down into place beside her. Tea takes one of the bottles, wishes briefly that it was filled with something less kid-friendly, then decides that alcohol would probably make things worse. Or better. It could probably make this easier. They call it liquid courage, don't they?

The silence stretches but it's not uncomfortable, and Tea does't feel the need to speak, to fill the air with empty words.

"Get out." Tony's cold words shatter the silence. Oh, god, she waited too long and he fucking hates her. He won't listen to a word she's going to say. This whole stupid thing has just exploded and she's just lost half her friends in one fell swoop.

It's over.


	17. We're Broken, So Fix Me

**AN: I'm a horrible person for cliff-hanging you there. But...well, I have no excuse... **

**Warnings: language...nobody reads these anyways...seriously.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Seventeen  
****We're Broken, So Fix Me**

"Get out." Tony's cold words shatter the silence.

He sees Tea tense even though she hasn't so much as looked at him yet. And she's turning slowly, something frighteningly similar to pain painted on her features. He has to look away from her, from her big brown eyes that are so full of hurt. He turns his gaze to the bimbo on his arm, the stupid girl from the gas station that sold him his cigarettes and had gotten off just in time to get off. "I said, _get out_."

"What?" She chips, confused.

"Get. The _fuck_. Out." Tony reiterates slowly. "We're done here."

"But we just got here." She smiles, slutty and obvious, and why the fuck had he brought her home?

"Just fucking _go_, you stupid whore!" Tony snaps.

She slaps him, all righteous anger, and storms from the house. But that's what he'd wanted, so he considers it a victory.

"You're still a dick, Tony." Tea says, the wounded look banished from her eyes.

"You're here." He says instead of answering. He doesn't have the energy to banter right now. He doesn't have the energy to do anything but hope she's here to say she wants him.

"I am." She smirks at him, and he's not sure what she means. He wants to be sure. "So, I guess we should talk."

"I guess we should." He turns and walks away, knows she'll follow. A reverse deja vu of the night this all started.

His room feels too big. Or maybe he just feels small. He's never not had control of the situation. He's never let someone else make a decision that he'd have to abide by. It's not in his nature to let another decide things, to bite his tongue and stop the words that he knows will bend their will to his.

"So..." Tea starts before realizing that she has no idea what to actually say. She was too focused on just getting up the balls to show up. The answer to this lack of preparedness seems obvious though. She closes the distance between them, puts a hand at his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, and kisses him.

It's softer than she lets herself kiss anyone else because, unlike everyone else, this one _matters_. Tony matters. This completely fucked up relationship matters. Because he matches her. He makes her _feel_.

Her lips are against his again, and he can't breathe. In a good way. In the _best _way. And when there's a fuzzy red haze edging into the corner of his eyes, he figures now would be a good time to pull away. You know, _before _he passes out. God, she'd probably make fun of him forever.

"That's not a _you've completely fucked my life and I never want to see you again_ goodbye kiss, is it?" Tony asks when he has enough air to do so.

"Did it feel like a goodbye kiss?"

"God, I hope not. Or you're gonna kick my ass after this." Tony smirks before crashing his lips hers again.

It's not soft this time, nor sweet. It's hard and demanding and frantic. His hand scurry over her, undoing buttons and zippers and everything else that's stopping him from feeling her skin against his. Buttons pop and fly through the air accompanied by the sound of tearing fabric, but neither of them notice.

She backs him up against his bed, pushes him down. She's the hunter again, he's the victim, and god, he can think of worse things than losing this time.

* * *

"So what are we?" The question is whispered and hesitant, so quiet Tea feels it rumbling through his chest more than she hears it.

"Do we have to be _anything_?" She lifts her head off his chest, looks him in the eyes. "Label it and shit?"

"No." Tony says with ease. "We don't. We'll just...be."

"That was _so cheesy_." Tea laughs. Her head finding its place back on his chest.

"I don't know, most girls like it..." He shrugs, because he learned a long time ago that the usual lines don't work on Tea. He smirks. It's one of the things that draws him to her.

"They must be really stupid."

"Most of them." He doesn't mind admitting it. He banged them for their bodies not their brains. Because they incited a physical connection, and he needed that connection even if only for a moment. "You know the type."

He knows she does. He'd seen her take them home time and time again. Always searching for someone, anyone, to be different, to make her feel. He grins, proud and arrogant again, because in the end it was _him_. He was the one she'd been looking for all along.

"Mmhmm. Hot, stacked, kinda slutty?" Tea laughs, her breath ghosting over his skin pleasantly.

"That would it, yeah." Tony laughs too. Then groans. "I don't want to get up."

"So don't."

"Good plan. 'Cept I've got to take Eura to her therapy today. Mom and Dad fucked off somewhere, and the world might just end if she misses a session."

"She that messed up?"

"No. She just doesn't talk. This, apparently, means that she's traumatized or some shit."

"Or she just likes the quiet."

"S'what I said."

Tea gets up slowly, eyes darting for her clothes. Her jeans are fine as she pulls them on, but, she notes with amusement, Tony had actually torn her top in his haste to remove it. "Note to self, buttons bad..." She laughs, holding up the mutilated shirt.

"Hmm?" Tony looks up from where he'd been zipping up his own jeans. "It was in the way." He explains as if this excuses everything.

"Right. I'll just explain that to everyone that asks as I run through the streets topless."

"Or," Tony says riffling through his drawers. "You could borrow one of mine." He holds up a simple navy polo.

"And deprive the people of _this_?" She asks, smirking as she gestures to her tits.

"You're right." Tony says, holding the shirt above his head when she moves to take it. "That _would _be a crime."

Tea reaches for it, laughing because he's not much taller than her anyways. Her hand clutches the fabric and yanks it from his grasp. She pulls it on over her head and he laughs. "What?"

"Nothing." Tony shakes his head, keeping sight of her from the corner of his eye. "You just look really good in my clothes."

"Bitch, please." Tea throws the shirt he had discarded earlier at him. "I look good in anything."

"I concur, with the stipulation that you look best in _nothing_." He adds as he finishes dressing.

"Bye, Tony." Tea say pointedly with a roll of her eyes and a half-smile on her lips.

"See ya, Tay." He smirks at her retreating back, cocking his head to the side to get a better view of her ass as she walks away.

And just like that he feels like the Tony he used to be, the god among men, the king of all he sees and the ruler of everything he touches. He's Tony fucking Snyder again. Because he's real again. Because Tea wants him. The rest of the world can go to hell for all he cares.


	18. Of Missing Exes, Possession, and

**AN: Alrighty, here's 18. Excessive amounts of love to those who reviewed. Everybody thank them. If they didn't review, I wouldn't update, and you would not be reading this chapter.**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Eighteen  
****Of Missing Exes, Possession, and the Losing of One's Man-Card**

Tony struts in like he owns the damn place because he pretty much does. This school has always been his bitch, and he's going to fucking remind everybody of that neat little fact.

There are whispers circulating about him and Michelle and Tea and everyone and their mother. But he's a king, and he's fucking untouchable, no matter what any of these morons think they know.

"Hey, Tone." Tea greets with a smirk. Abbud looks at him with some cross between envy, resignation, and a little anger. Chris grins, big and wide, and gives him a not so subtle thumbs up. Daisy feels the need to smack Chris upside the head for that one, but then she nods a greeting of her own, so Tony figures that they're all pretty much his again. Tea has probably done some damage control with Daisy and Abbud on his behalf.

A quick scan of the room shows that Stan is glaring quietly from the corner, but the nose brace covering most of his face means he probably won't try something as stupid as picking another fight. Michelle is notably absent, but Tony's pretty sure that that's probably for the best. He thinks he knows where she might be anyways, so he can finish burning that bridge when he needs to. And he does need to. He's not one to leave things unfinished.

"Okay, who's ready to learn!" Dave bursts in.

"He is _much _too chipper for this early in the morning." Daisy whispers as Tony slides into his desk.

"Isn't natural." Chris agrees.

"Are you ready to learn, Tony?" Dave asks, hearing only the buzz of conversation.

"Oh, yeah, Dave." Tony smiles, all innocent and still completely mocking. "I am _so _ready to _learn_."

Dave, being the mostly incompetent teacher he is, is further enthused by Tony's response. "You see, people, ready to learn!"

He launches through the roll and plows straight through to his lecture with more energy than should be possible. Tony spends this time staring at Tea, who's propped her head up with a hand and started to doze. Not the lame, angsty looks he had so recently used though. No. This is more a careful observing of what's his. Though he'd never tell her he'd thought of her with such possessiveness. He quite likes having all his bits still attached, and she'd rip him a new one if he ever let on that he considered her his own.

She's something wild and untamable, and he'd be foolish to try. Tea is not Michelle; he can't just dick around with her. If he wants this, whatever it _is _since they're not labeling it, to work, he's going to have to put forth an effort. And he wants it to work. He really, really does.

He wants more nights of the best sex he's ever had. He wants more sleeping with her in his arms, holding her to him the way he's probably not allowed to in the day. He wants more arguing banter that has nearly imperceivable affection behind the harsh words. He wants more nights spent entirely at her mercy, where he has no choice but to give up control because she _takes _it from him. He just wants more. More everything.

More Tea.

"Stop staring at me, Tone." Tea whispers, eyes never opening. Tony grins and ignores the command. If she's not naked and on top of him, he doesn't have to do what she says. He's not _that _whipped. He's not really whipped at all.

Probably. Yet.

Tony refuses to pursue that line of thought any further. If he's going to lose his man-card, and Tea is definitely the only girl who could ever even _hope _to claim it, he'd rather be surprised. There's a little voice whispering that he already gave it to her that night on the marry-go-round when he told her he'd be whatever she wanted him to be. But he's choosing to ignore it.

The bell rings and the class shuffles out. Tony smiles and waves to the gang before, veering off towards the exits.

"Got a bit of business to finish taking care off." He grins amicably. "Should be back before lunch."

And he's gone, disappearing through the doors, and thinking that maybe the school should be a bit more secure than it is. It's a wonder anyone ever actually goes to class...

As soon as the crisp fall air hits him, he remembers why exactly he's cutting class this time. And it has nothing to do with easy access or the useless mess that is Tina's psych class.

Michelle.


	19. It Was Real For Me

**AN: So, a little, itty, bitty Betty bashing there at the end. Kinda. Maybe. Not really. Sorry, I just don't like her character much...so, haha, **_**boring**_**. Just one more chapter guys. Reviews =fast update.**

**Warnings: language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Chapter Nineteen  
****It Was Real For Me**

It's a beautiful park, lush and green. A lake laps quietly nearby, and he's surrounded by vibrant green trees. Flowers of a dozen different colors sprout sporadically and fully across the field. At the center is a bench. And sitting on the bench is a girl with bright orange-red hair.

"Hey, Chelle." Tony greets, sliding into place beside her.

"How'd you know I was here?" Michelle asks, voice still choked with the tears that trail down her cheeks in charcoal gray streaks.

"Wasn't a complete dick _all _the time." He mutters, "I listened. Always wanted me to take you here. Plan some big, romantic picnic."

"You never did."

"Was saving it for when I'd screwed up so bad you were sure you'd never take me back."

"Is that what this is?" The tremor of hope he hears in her voice makes him feel like he should feel bad. Had he truly broken this girl down so much that after everything, she'd take him back after something so...simple? One grand gesture and they're TonyandMichelle again.

"No."

"Didn't think so." But she had; he can tell. The way her shoulders sag down just a little further, disappointed. The way she lets out a single bark of derisive laugh, directed not at him but at herself. "You were just playing me all along, weren't you?"

"Yes." Tony decides that honesty might just be better than any lie he could try and craft. "You were my friend, Michelle. You were beautiful and clever, and you looked perfect on my arm."

"The picturesque queen to your king."

"It was a great picture, Chelle." Tony says, standing to leave, and looking down at her. "But that's all it was. A picture."

"I _loved _you."

"I know. But I never did." He starts to go as another sob bursts from her. He stops, unable to just leave it as it is. To break her again and not even try to put the pieces back together again. "Stan, though...Stan's always loved you the way I was supposed to."

Tony leaves her there. Sends a brief text to Stanley, and hopes that he can help fix the damage Tony's done.

_The park on Poplar Dr. Chelle needs you_~~Tony

LINE BREAK

Tony is taking a bite of a crisp, crimson apple when Betty sits down across from him. "Um...Hello?" He tries against her decidedly unfriendly glare.

"Betty." Tea greets in the distantly aloof tone he recognizes as her _we had sex, it's not a big deal; please go away now _voice. He remembers that Betty had kissed her in front of everybody back when he had been in angsty stare mode. He was not, however, aware that it had progressed farther.

"You've been ignoring my calls. For ages now."

"Some might consider that a hint and take it as such." Tea snarks, and Tony has to hide a smile behind his apple.

"I broke up with Bobby, I _came out_, for you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask you to, all right?" Tea sighs, already annoyed by the drama Betty seems intent on bring into her life. She's got more than enough already. "In fact, I seem to recall specifically telling you I wasn't looking for anything other than a good fuck."

"Because I had a _boyfriend_."

"Because nobody _matches _me. You included."

"Hey, now," Toy interrupts, suddenly wanting to make it clear that Tea has indeed been matched even if it's obvious that Betty is not now nor ever will be a threat. "I do believe we've had this discussion, Tea."

"Yes, yes, you _ass_. Matched me, magnificent screw, blah, blah, _blah_." Tea rolls her eyes and shoots him a look. "Go away now, the grown-ups are talking."

"You do realize that I'm older than you, right?" Tony sneers.

"Wait. You slept with him?" Betty asks incredulously before Tea can snap an appropiate response to Tony's bantering.

"Many, _many _times." Tony smirks. "In several fun and very _creative _positions."

"Keep bragging, Tone. Next time, you'll wake up without balls."

"And on that not so vaguely threatening note, I must take my leave of you. Chris wants to get fucked up before last period. I'd invite you, Tay, but seeing as you've just threatened my manhood, you'll have to find your own dealer."

"See you five, dickwad." Tea asserts because she knows where they'll be and no way in hell is everybody getting wasted without her.

"Looking forward to it." A suggestive raising of his eyebrows and Tony's gone.

Betty, who had for the most part sat there in silence during their exchange, suddenly finds her voice. "Holy shit. You're dating Tony."

"Whoa." Tea exclaims, "We're fucking occasionally. _Not _dating."

"You're just randomly screwing around with him? Does his cock not get the way of the whole, you know, _lesbian _thing?"

"You'd think it would." Tea bites out, getting more and more annoyed at Betty's continued presence and accusations. "But, despite that, still a better lay than _you_."

Tea gets up and abandons Betty to the now deserted table.


	20. Epilogue: We're Not the Same as We Were

**AN: God I've written like three different versions of this epilogue, and it's just **_**not working**_**! Argh! This is short and it sucks...I hate it with a passion that will never die... **

**AN2: On a completely different note, I could be convinced to write a sequel if you all ask nicely. In the mean time, you can check out "The Tightening of Screws". It's another Tea/Tony I've put up that needs some love.**

**Warnings: Language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".**

**Epilogue  
****We're Not the Same as We Were**

**Two Months Later**

It's a rave. Bright, flashing lights of white and red and yellow interspersed through the dim darkness. Thundering loud music vibrating through them up through their sneakers and thrumming through them like blood through veins. It's almost exactly the way it used to be.

Chris downs a handful of pills and half a bottle of Bud before launching himself into the madness with a grin. Daisy rolls her eyes and muddles through the crowd to make sure he doesn't do anything too stupid. Cadie is dragged into the writhing mass of bodies to dance by Warren. Abbud shoots Tea a look that she doesn't quite understand, then he too is gone.

"Stan talked to me for ten whole minutes yesterday. I think he's coming round." Tony smirks, because his kingdom isn't gone, just rearranged a little. "And Michelle sent a very long and convoluted text telling me that she 'understands'."

"Understands what?" Tea sneers because the only thing that was ever even remotely unclear was how she managed to convince herself that what she had with Tony could be mistaken for love.

"No idea. But I suppose it means she's not as angry as she was."

"Time heals all wounds or some shit, right?"

"Ha, I guess." Tony laughs, throws an arm around her shoulders as they move towards the crowd. She shrugs him off relatively quickly though, pretends not to notice the small frown that mars his features at the action. Whatever they are, they're not a couple, so he doesn't get to act boyfriendly with her outside the bedroom. It's just...simpler that way.

But she lets im take her hand and pull her onto the dance floor. He lets go on his own when they reach the moshing bodies of their friends. Tea reminds herself that this is the reaction that she wants, that she been instilling the no PDA in any shape or form outside of sex for monthes now for a reason.

She doesn't do we. And she's not looking for a boyfriend, regardless of this weird connection she shares with Tony. They work just fine, just like this. No need to go and complicate things.

"Dance, dance, bitches!" Chris shouts at them when he notices their arrival.

"You heard the man!" Tony whisper-shouts in her ear, running his hands over her. And, what the hell, she lets him. It's nice in a sort of flawlessly perfect way, like those soft kisses shared forever ago on a merry-go-round.

It's gonna be normal again. It has to be, because she's Tea Marvelli and he's Tony Snyder, and the whole damn universe bends to their wills. It always has, it always will.


	21. SEQUEL

**IMPORTANT NOTICE:**

**Hey, so I went and started that sequel, if you guys are 's called "Dance Throught the Pain" and can be found on my profile or under the Tea/Tony catagory.**


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